


You Can Carry On (But Don't Get Carried Away)

by wonderofasunrise



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Temporary Blindness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderofasunrise/pseuds/wonderofasunrise
Summary: Susan is trying her best not to go crazy while Kerry is recovering from LASIK surgery. Nothing but fluff. Inspired by a prompt sent by pgk on Tumblr.
Relationships: Susan Lewis/Kerry Weaver
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	You Can Carry On (But Don't Get Carried Away)

**Author's Note:**

> For pgk, who made me feel very much honoured by tossing this prompt my way on Tumblr:  
> “You know that trope a lot of shows go for where someone gets LASIK and is blind for a couple days? I imagined Kerry getting that surgery and Susan having to deal with a blind Kerry and trying not to go crazy. I was just thinking about how much I'd want to read that and how good I thought it would be coming from you.”
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, duh.
> 
> Featuring an excerpt from “Kerry” by Daryl Hall and John Oates.

_You’ve got it bad for yourself_ _  
_ _And nobody else can hold a candle to you_ _  
_ _So I’m told_

* * *

Susan is awakened by a squeeze on her thigh, and she instantly turns her head to the side with eyes still fully closed. When she feels another squeeze, she groans at the realisation that there is no way she can fall back asleep until she responds, so she rubs her eyes lazily before finally opening them. Immediately she is greeted by the sight of her wide-awake wife, whose eyes are struggling to explore the darkness of their master bedroom.

“ _Kerry,_ ” Susan groans as she turns on a table lamp on the small drawer next to her side of the bed. “It’s…what? Two in the morning?”

“I know,” Kerry says, “but I need to use the bathroom and I don’t fancy hitting anything on my way there.”

Susan lets out a sigh, although she also tries her best not to sound unsympathetic to Kerry’s predicament, the latter having undergone LASIK surgery as her poor eyesight was getting unbearable. Kerry, as expected, was adamant at first, but thanks to Susan’s insistence (and the ophthalmologist’s ability to convince her that her performance at work would be _even_ better without her having to bother with wearing glasses) she finally gave in, though she was not a happy camper upon learning that she would have a blurry eyesight for at least a couple of days after the procedure before finally gaining (what she hopes to be) 20/20 vision.

At first, Susan just scoffed in amusement at Kerry’s exasperation after learning that she will have to wait for at least a few days until her eyes are fully functional, but soon Susan began to share the annoyance as she realised it means she will have to bear with Kerry’s nagging and constant complaining about her eyes _and_ —naturally—not being able to work until they recover. As expected, Susan fought tooth and nail to convince Kerry to take it easy and rest, and that (although Susan can’t promise this one) the ER will not fall apart during her absence. _And I thought I was supposed to be the annoying one,_ Susan thought (almost out loud at one point).

“Alright, alright, I’m up,” Susan pulls herself to sit on the bed, one of her hands holding Kerry’s arm as she slowly stands up and starts guiding her wife to the ensuite bathroom. Just as they are about to take the next couple of steps, Kerry suddenly stops, almost startling Susan who immediately lets her go and turns to her with an exasperated look.

“I would’ve seriously appreciated it had you let me know you were going to stop,” Susan says flatly. “It’s dark, and falling is the last thing I want for both of us under this condition.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Kerry replies with an emphasis on the last word. “It’s just—I forgot my crutch.”

Letting out another groan, Susan tells Kerry to stay where she is while Susan walks towards Kerry’s side of the bed to grab her crutch. A few seconds later (though with the current state of Kerry’s eyes it feels much longer to her), Kerry feels Susan handing her crutch to her, and—as quickly as her eyes allow her—she places her right arm inside the cuff of her crutch before continuing to make her way to the bathroom with Susan leading the way.

Once inside, Susan looks on as Kerry ( _very_ ) slowly walks towards the toilet bowl, and before sitting on it she raises one hand at Susan, who raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“Turn around,” Kerry states. “I know I can’t see you, but I still don’t want you to see me…like _this_.”

Susan is about to retort, but a look on Kerry’s face tells her that Kerry is dead serious, so Susan turns around and stays still until Kerry is done. Yawning, Susan turns around to face Kerry just as the latter is walking and extending her free arm towards Susan and Kerry's hand inadvertently hits Susan right in the face.

“ _Ouch!_ ” Susan exclaims, and Kerry’s mouth opens slightly at the sound and her hand starts to feel about Susan’s face to see where it hurts. At Kerry’s touch, Susan lets out a sigh of (mild) relief and her hand travels to feel Kerry’s on her face, and a smile begins to form on her lips. Unbeknownst to Susan, even with her lack of clear vision there is no way _that_ smile can escape Kerry’s sight, and Kerry starts to blush.

“I would tease you about blushing even when your vision is shit, but we seriously need to go back to bed,” Susan says as she places an arm around Kerry before leading the way back to bed. “Come on.”

Once both women are comfortable with their heads against their respective pillows, Susan turns to her side so that she is now face to face with Kerry, who has her eyes closed (as she has been advised to let her eyes rest for as often as possible until her vision gets back to normal) and her hand moving around the mattress until it finds Susan’s stomach.

“And I would apologize for keeping you up like this, but you do know we can do with some practice for when this one comes along,” Kerry says softly before opening her eyes faintly and gazing at her wife’s slightly protruding belly. “Isn’t that true, baby? Yes, it is. Your moms need to practice for when you’re finally here, don’t they? Yeah, that’s right.”

Susan feels the baby flutter in response to the familiar sound of Kerry’s voice—its movements have become strong enough for Kerry to feel in the past couple of weeks—and she sports another smile, this time at the warm interaction between her wife and their unborn child.

Soon enough, Susan begins to fall asleep, Kerry’s voice as she keeps on talking to the baby being the last thing she hears before entering slumber once again, and this reminds her that—even without telling Kerry—she would never have any problem staying up late for even a million nights as long as she has her family close.


End file.
